Everyday life as a Domina

Tag Archives: anal

Don’t get me wrong, I love my kid. If I could do it all over again, I’d do it exactly the same way and all that trite bullshit. She’s pretty damn awesome, if I do say so myself. I’m kind of proud of myself for making such an awesome kid.

Brag moment (because I’m a parent and this is my blog and I can write about whateverthefuck I want to write about, even if it’s about my kid):

My daughter is in kindergarten, and smart as all hell. No I’m serious, I know all parents want to think their kids are exceptional in every category. But I’m not one of those parents. There are certain things my kid just fucking sucks at. She’s so damned sensitive and thin-skinned, and she just shuts down if she’s under stress (which I’m hoping is mostly just because she’s five and living a privileged life, and she’ll grow out of it).

Academia happens to be one of her strengths. According to her most recent testing, she’s a full year ahead in reading and a year and a half ahead in math. Kid is fragile as fuck, but it’s fine, she’ll be able to wipe her tears with hundred dollar bills when she’s an adult and an astrophysicist or some shit.

I went out and bought some second grade math books to do with her after her regular school lessons, and she’s flying through most those with relative ease. And I’m having to do it because the pussies who run the homeschool program don’t want to bump her up to an appropriate level for fear of “challenging her too much.”

Oh, you mean shit in her life might actually be hard at some point? The unmitigated horror!

We have to protect the children and give them participation trophies and create a completely unrealistic view of how the world works, and then bitch and complain when they grow up and are not sufficiently equipped to deal with shit.

Sigh…

Whatever. It’s fine. I’m done fighting that battle this year. It’s already half over anyway, and I had to fight to get her on independent study, and fight to allow her to skip the lessons she already exhibits mastery of, and fight to do all this stupid shit you’d think people who make a career out of providing the best education possible to future generations wouldn’t protest against.

But back to my point.

As many pros as there are to reproducing, the impact on one’s kink life is a rather significant entry in the con column.

Like last night. Upon returning home from coffee with a friend at midnight-ish, I found Kazander lying on the couch, wearing his lacy panties, watching porn on his computer.

Moments later, I found myself sitting next to him, watching porn with him, pulling his panties off, and doing nice and not-so-nice things to his body.

And can I just say I love how masochistic he’s gotten lately? Because I love how masochistic he’s gotten lately. He’s never been one for a lot of CBT, but last night, when I pinched his cock and gripped his balls, he whimpered and curled up around me so sweetly, gasping and writhing in that sexy way of his.

Before long, I decided that just pinching wasn’t enough. Out came the clothespins.

It’s crazy how much better a dick looks when there are clothespins on it.

Slapping his balls, yanking on the clothespins, pinching and twisting his nipples, and biting his ear were my activities of choice to distract him from the video.

But, as is wont to happen when I watch porn, I got horny. And I wanted a shower before making him go down on me.

So I set the computer down and told him he was going to pamper and bathe me. Naturally, the clothespins were going to stay right where they were.

It was so much fun grinding my ass against his cock with the clothespins on. Or running my fingertips lightly up his shaft, or nudging my knee against his groin.

And the noises he made when I finally took the clothespins off were just amazing.

The general plan was that he was going to lick me to an orgasm or two, then I would bend him over the edge of the bed and fuck him long and hard, and finally let him cum with my cock deep in his sore, raw, throbbing ass.

It started out well. We went into our bedroom (which is right next to the kid’s bedroom) and locked the door, then I grabbed him by his hair and shoved his face in my cunt.

He licked me to one orgasm, but I wanted another one. And I was almost fucking there when suddenly I heard crying from the next room.

“Oh, goddammit,” I muttered, pushing Kazander off me and opening the door. I stood in the spawn’s doorway to see her sitting on the bed, crying.

She always wakes up at some point in the very early morning and comes to sleep in bed with me. Apparently last night she woke up early. Seeing that my bedroom door was closed, she went into the living room to look for Kazander, and didn’t see him there, so she started crying.

I reassured her, refilled her cup of water, and tucked her back in.

The mood was basically shot.

But I wasn’t completely cruel. I would still let him cum. Once I was sure she was alright and back in bed, I went back to the bedroom and closed the door. I reached for a dildo and held it up for Kazander to see.

“Wanna take a guess where this is going?” I asked.

“Are you sure you want to do it?” he asked, referring to the possibility of another interruption.

“Yeah, but it’s going to be quick.”

So much for being able to endlessly tease and torment him.

I didn’t give him much time to get used to the size, and shoved the whole thing in him.

He was gasping and whimpering with pain, but his cute little clit was already dripping. He really is such a butt slut.

It took only a minute or two before he came, I handed him a towel to clean up, pulled the dildo out of him, and that was the somewhat underwhelming finish to what I had intended to be a much longer play session.

Oh well. We can always try again. And only 13 more years until she goes off to college.

Sunday night was great. I went to sleep completely sated and exhausted, and Kazander went to sleep frustrated, denied, and horny.

Win-win.

We didn’t get to bed until around 3:30 or 4 in the morning, so by the time we got up and dressed, it was lunchtime. We decided to have lunch at the Mexican restaurant in the casino, but Kazander was surprised when I stopped him on his way out the door.

I showed him the butt plug that was in my hand, then turned him and bent him over the edge of the bed. I pulled his pants down to his knees, lubed up the plug, and slid it inside him. He was still a little raw from the night before, but he took the plug without complaint and we made our way downstairs.

After lunch, we went and saw that Bodies exhibit at the Luxor, and then I took pity on him and let him go back up to the room to take the plug out. He’d kept it in for a couple of hours, and we were planning on walking the Strip and doing the whole “tourist-y” thing.

So the day was just spent hanging out, the two of us enjoying each other’s company. We came back to the hotel and relaxed for a bit before dinner. We had a nice, romantic dinner, had some drinks at the bar, and I discovered this little place in the casino that sells alcoholic slushies, for lack of a better way to describe them. And they were very reasonably priced.

The problem is they don’t taste like they have any alcohol in them at all. After my third, I felt fine. A little pleasantly buzzed, but still in control and feeling good. But then, halfway through my fourth, it all hit me at once. I was completely plastered.

We went back up to the hotel room around 11, stopping by Starbucks to get another coffee to mix with the rest of the Baileys, and I immediately got the bath going.

I love that tub, by the way.

I relaxed and sobered up a bit while Kazander packed our things. It was our last night, and I sure as hell didn’t want to have to wake up early to pack.

By the time he was done, I’d sobered up quite a bit. He gave me a shoulder rub, then I got out, rinsed off, dried off, and lied down on the bed next to him.

I’d promised him he could cum, as long as he behaved himself, so I took him out of his cage and teased him, sort of idly playing with him and degrading him while we looked at porn together on his computer. Before long, he was rock-hard and squirming, begging to be allowed to cum.

He’d had almost as much to drink as I had, though, and just jerking him off wasn’t going to work. So he asked me if he could ride my dick.

He really is so cute when he begs. Seriously. It’s adorable.

He pulled the strapon out of the bag and I slid it on, then he straddled me and guided the dildo inside him. I put a hand around his dick and held it still, making him do all the work to get himself off. He had to fuck himself on the dildo to get off.

And I do love watching him ride me. He really gets into it, fucking himself hard and fast, pushing himself to get even faster to get himself off sooner.

It’s sexy as fuck.

It didn’t take long for him to reach that edge. He came pretty quickly.

But it didn’t shoot out, like it normally does. It just sort of dribbled out, similar to a ruined orgasm. That was weird, but it could’ve been caused by him having so much to drink. But then, he made the comment that it almost felt cold as it was coming out. It’s the second time in a row that he’s mentioned it feeling cold. And I’d noticed earlier that day, as well as the day before, that his balls felt cold. I assumed it was because he was naked in a chilly room, when he’s not usually naked at home, because of the spawn running around.

So the cage stayed off, and I’m going to let him cum again tonight. If it still feels cold, I’m calling to make him an appointment to get that checked out.

The cage isn’t the cause of it, because the first time it happened, he hadn’t worn the cage for a week or so. But even with that, I think it would be best to leave the cage off and see how things go.

But still, that’s fucking weird, and a bunch of Google searches didn’t help in the slightest. Has anyone ever heard of that? It’s not cold to the touch afterward, he says it actually feels cold as he’s coming… as the semen is coming out.

So yeah, if that continues, it’s definitely getting checked out.

But it was an awesome anniversary weekend. I’m going to be a little gentle with Kazander this week (and with Sounder, as well…. I kind of have to laugh. I have three boys, and two of them are partially out of commission at the same time. Gotta love that timing).

But being gentle doesn’t mean I can’t have fun. I’m going to start our second year of marriage off with some kinky fun, and I’ve got plans to see Sounder on Friday, and then hopefully the party on Saturday. Sure, I love hurting both of them, but I absolutely don’t have to be rough with them to enjoy myself. I have a very soft touch when I want to.

On Sunday, Kazander and I checked in to our hotel and went up to our room.

Loved the view from the tub.

Unfortunately, Sounder was not with me, as originally planned. But that’s because I may have sort of broken him (and not in the fun way that I like to break my boys) last week.

M’kay, so what had happened was…

I went over to see him on Wednesday, feeling extremely sadistic, and he was going to experience some of that.

So I pulled down his panties, tied him down on his bed and pulled out my fun impact toys. I got the flogger, the paddles, the tawse, and the single-tail, and set them out, making sure he could see them. I made sure to come prepared. I didn’t want to break blood vessels in my hand like I did last time.

I started gently, with the flogger. But soon graduated to the paddle and the tawse. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough room for me to use the single-tail, not the way he was lying.

But that didn’t matter. I was having fun, and he was squirming and thrashing around beautifully. I loved watching the way his body moves when I hurt him. He would tense up, occasionally holding his breath, trying to handle the pain, gasping and moaning and grunting. I loved watching that tension rolling through his legs, arms, and torso, his hands clenched into fists. I loved watching him strain against the ropes that held him down.

In short, he’s fucking sexy when he’s in pain.

So everything was going great. Then, as I was spanking him with the paddle, he said, “wait.”

Now, just so everyone knows, we don’t have safewords, so I never gag him, and make sure he’s always able to communicate what’s going on.

So I asked him what was wrong, and he said he felt like his balls were swelling up. I hadn’t touched his balls in a few minutes, but untied his legs, anyway, to let him roll over.

That’s when he said it actually felt like he turned wrong in his thrashing and tweaked something in his abdomen, right around his hip line, and it felt like whatever he’d done was dripping into his balls. He said it didn’t hurt, necessarily, just felt uncomfortable, and despite the fact that his balls looked exactly the same, he said they felt like they’d tripled in size.

It was the weirdest thing I’d ever heard of. I finished untying him, let him up (he put on one of the few pairs of men’s underwear he still owns, for doctors or whatever), and we talked and hung out for awhile before I went home.

Before I left, I checked again, and his balls still didn’t look any different. So I figured the discomfort would go away.

The next day, he was still sore, and still felt swollen. Friday, it hurt, and was still swollen. I told him he needed to get it checked out, and he replied that yeah, he’d begun to concede to that, himself. So he put a call in to his surgeon and had an appointment set up.

It was adorable, he was wearing his men’s underwear, and made the comment that he didn’t like having to wear them. I love the fact that he was hesitant and nervous about being made to wear panties at first, and now he prefers them to men’s underwear. I loved that.

At that point, we were still planning on him coming over to the hotel on Sunday. We would just have to be very careful, and there wouldn’t be any impact play or anything rough. That sort of play would wait until he got the all-clear from his doctor.

But then, I woke up to a text on Sunday morning (he’s a morning person, but he’s fucking adorable, so I’ll forgive that horrible flaw), warning me that he had just picked up a prescription for pain meds. The cute thing is that his reason for telling me was to let me know that he’d be a little quiet and might doze off, so I wouldn’t think anything was wrong if he didn’t answer my texts right away.

Seriously, y’all… He’s too fucking cute.

I told him to get some rest, and that we’d postpone the session in the hotel.

So that was a bummer, but what could we do? It’s something that was out of both of our control. And as I reminded him, he’s not getting out of the session with Kazander. It’s still going to happen. It’s just going to happen on another day.

The other bummer is that the party I’m having with him, Sadie, and Kiki is supposed to be this Saturday. We’re waiting until tomorrow to see how he’s feeling, and we’ll decide then whether the party is still on, or whether we’ll need to postpone that. Right now, it’s looking promising, but I want to wait and make absolute sure he’s feeling up to it.

He saw his doctor yesterday, and the doctor said that it’s more than likely a tear in his upper abdomen, which can be fixed laparoscopically. The problem, and the concern, is that the tear should not have happened without significant force, and the fact that it did happen without significant force makes him think that there’s an accompanying tear in the lower abdomen. If there’s another tear in the lower abdomen, that’ll be a slightly more complex procedure. There’s also concerns regarding the level of pain Sounder is feeling. He’s got some scar tissue from previous injuries in the area, which may or may not be contributing to some of what he’s experiencing now.

The bottom line is that he needs an MRI, and can’t lift more than 10 pounds, and needs to take it easy. He can still go to work and go about his life, he’s not bed-ridden, but he can’t push himself, he can’t work out, and I can’t beat the living hell out of him.

So the party can still happen, as long as he’s feeling stable. We’ll just focus on humiliating him, rather than beating him. But I also don’t want to risk making his injury worse, so we’ll play it by ear and see how it goes.

So Sunday night didn’t go as planned. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have fun.

Ever since Sarah wrote me about some basic rope techniques, my interest in shibari has been once again fanned. It’s been so long since I’ve done any of it, I had to give myself a bit of an online crash-course in what I used to know.

When we first walked into the hotel room, I noticed a sturdy-looking coffee table in the “living room.” After examining it a bit, I was satisfied that it would hold Kazander’s weight. I had a general plan in place, but it was still early, and I wanted to make sure he was burning with need. I teased him for hours, grinding against him, reaching through the bars of his cage to stroke his dick, making him eat me out, grabbing and groping him.

I wanted him whiny and horny and desperate. But he wasn’t going to cum.

Hell no, I wasn’t going to let him cum. Sunday was our anniversary, and there was no way I was going to let him cum. He didn’t get to cum on our wedding night, either.

But finally, I’d teased him enough.

So I stripped him and laid him down on the table, then pulled out my rope.

I think he looks so cute all tied up, don’t you?

At first, I just tried a simple ladder, and because my rope skills are that rusty, I actually had to take a minute to remember how to do it. But he was patient and let me mess with him. And it didn’t take long for me to get my rhythm back.

I love putting him in this position.

Immediately, I tied his legs together and up, keeping his ass nice and exposed. I really love putting him in that position. His ass is so much fun to play with, and because he’s not a masochist, I love tying him up like this and beating him, knowing that he can’t get away, he has no choice but to take whatever I decide to give out.

Super awesomeness.

Once he was tied down, I pulled out my electrical kit, grabbed the plug, and plugged it in to the power box. Slowly, I lubed it up and slid it inside him, grinning as he whimpered and moaned, knowing what I was going to do.

But I was nice. I didn’t turn it up too high. I only turned it up just a little past “pleasurable,” so while he wasn’t super comfortable, it was something he could handle.

The power box would shut off after 15 minutes, so I decided to give him that time to ponder his position in life, pointing out that most men get to fuck their wives on their anniversary, and he’s tied up. lying on a coffee table in a hotel room, plugged and tormented because I find it amusing. I told him that his dick is so useless, so pathetic, I would never allow it inside me again.

It wasn’t long before that pathetic dick was straining against the cage. I know he wished I would reach down and play with it, to tease it through the cage and frustrate him, to tease him further, but he’d just have to keep wanting.

I sat down on the living chair and propped my feet up on the table beside him, responding to all the Facebook happy-anniversary posts, and basically ignored him.

And he makes such a good footrest.

When the machine shut off, I took the plug out and replaced it with my strap-on, fucking him raw. I know he was starting to get sore and stiff from being kept in that position, but I wasn’t quite done with him yet. I made him take my cock a bit longer before finally letting him up, letting him crawl to me and kiss my feet to thank me for using him.

I told him to go downstairs, to the 24-hour Starbucks, and get me my Venti nonfat iced caramel macchiato and a bottle of Baileys from the gift shop. He returned and drew me a bath while I mixed the Baileys with the coffee (everything tastes better with Baileys).

Once the bath was ready, I got in and relaxed while he straightened up.

Then, he got in with me, sitting on the floor of the tub between my legs and leaning back against me, wrapping his arms around my leg and just being the sweet, slutty boy I love so much.

After awhile, it looked like he was going to doze off, so we got out of the tub, rinsed off in the shower, and he licked me to another orgasm before bed.

Between her being here, and other things that have been going on, I’ve had a depressingly kink-free couple of weeks.

Like seriously. I could cry.

I even had to cancel plans with my sissy, because of my mom being around. And I haven’t been able to have her back to play with since that first time she came over.

Like seriously. I could cry.

So when I arranged to meet a boy I’ve been talking to (we’ll call him “sounder”) who could host, I was ecstatic. We set up a day and time, and a place to meet. I was definitely looking forward to meeting him.

And then, the night before I was supposed to meet him, as I was driving home from my Femdom meeting, all of a sudden the check-engine light came on in my car, and my transmission wouldn’t shift (I have an automatic).

Well fuck me.

So the next morning, the day I was supposed to meet him, I took my car to the shop, and they said they wouldn’t even be able to look at it until the next day.

Fuck me sideways.

It was literally hours before I was supposed to meet sounder, and I suddenly found myself with no vehicle. I couldn’t get kazander’s, because he was at work. Both of the relatives I asked had doctor appointments.

So I had to cancel on him that day. Which I hated having to do (and have already done once recently, with sissy). I felt like a huge flake.

But luckily, he was very understanding, and we set another time for Saturday. Of course I’d have my car back by Saturday.

………. Or not.

*Fun side note: It has now been almost a week, and they still don’t even know what’s wrong with the damn thing. Which translates to, this is going to be fucking expensive.*

So once again, I found myself with no vehicle. But it was fine. It was a weekend. No one had to work. I’d be able to take someone’s car and go meet him.

………. Or not. Once again, no one’s car was available.

Well, actually, one person’s car was available, but he doesn’t let me drive it because he says I’m “too reckless of a driver.”

No. No you didn’t. So stop bitching.

And that’s only because, a few years back, my sister-in-law needed to get to the airport to have her husband flown out for a liver transplant. The airport was 20 minutes away. She needed to be there in ten. And for the record, my kid wasn’t in the car.

I got her there in 8 minutes. I can drive fast. That doesn’t mean I’m going to. But ever since then, I’ve been branded a reckless driver, and he won’t let me drive his car.

So anyway, once again, it was hours before I was supposed to meet him (well, technically, it was the night before) and I had no vehicle.

I had two options at this point. I could either reschedule again, and basically brand myself a flake forever, or I could ask him if he’d be willing to come pick me up.

Again, he was quite understanding, and immediately agreed to pick me up. We ended up going to this horrible, cheesy, mountain-man-esque type bar (seriously, I felt like I should’ve been wearing flannel) and proceeded to get completely lost in conversation.

We ended up talking for three hours, and it would’ve probably gone much longer, but I needed to get back because I had dinner plans with my mom.

And, at random points throughout the conversation, I found myself damn near overwhelmed by this desire to grab him by the collar of his shirt, bend him over the bar, and have my way with him. More than once, I had to remind myself that we were in public, and you’re really not supposed to do that sort of thing. It’s usually frowned upon by management, you know?

But he’s a blast to talk to. He’s got that dry, sarcastic sense of humor that I love, and he’s well-spoken, and very sweet. And a perfect gentleman, as well. I was really sorry to have to cut the conversation short.

He drove me back home, and I groped him a bit in the car while he was driving, and then we said our goodbyes, and I went to dinner.

But I was definitely looking forward to playing with him. And since he could host, I didn’t have to worry about my mom running around, poking her nose where it isn’t wanted. So I decided that, after I put the kid to bed, I’d go over and play with him.

Thankfully, my mom had rented a car earlier in the day, and I was able to drive that. I got to his house, and we ended up lost in conversation for another hour, just talking about anything and everything.

But then, that urge grabbed me again, and this time, I didn’t have to fight it. I bent him over the island in his kitchen, slid his shorts down, and started playing with the ass I’d been wanting to destroy all day. For a moment, I simply groped him, running my hands across his ass, playing with his hole, reaching between his legs to play with his cock and balls.

Then I told him to take all of his clothes off. He was standing there, naked, hands behind his back, legs spread, as I inspected my new toy.

And I discovered early that he can take quite a bit of pain, which made my inner sadist snap to attention. I grabbed my toybag, and we went upstairs to his bedroom.

I had him lie on the bed, and buckled a collar with wrist and leg cuffs chained to it on him. The cuffs kept him in a fetal position, and left his ass wide open and vulnerable.

Of course I was going to do stuff to it.

I started small, with the smooth vibrator. It had been awhile since his ass had been used, and while he seemed confident of his ability to stretch to the point that he could take my largest plug, I wanted to see how he did with something a bit smaller, first.

Oh gawd, but he makes some awesome sounds when I put things inside him. Squirming and moaning and straining against the chains that held him in place, I was definitely having fun.

And then, in a move that completely surprised me, the chain holding his legs suddenly snapped, sending a few links flying. I laughed, stunned that he’d been strong enough to break it, and simply wrapped an arm around his hips, holding him down as I continued to fuck him with the vibrator.

After awhile, I turned him completely on his stomach and took my flogger to him. He gets so delightfully red, and he can take so much pain. The feeling of the vibrator still inside him, along with the stinging pain of my flogger, elicited some pretty amazing noises.

He was taking the vibrator pretty well, so I decided to go up a size. I knelt between his legs, pushing the larger dildo into him, while he gasped and moaned and squirmed all over the place. And holy shit, his reaction to getting fucked is hot. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, enjoying watching him strain against the cuffs still holding his wrists, when suddenly I heard another snap, and his wrists were free.

Now I was surprised. Granted, it was a relatively cheap chain, and I’ve had it for so long, I don’t remember where I got it or what the chain itself is made out of. But, I mean, regardless of what it’s made out of, it’s still fucking metal. It wasn’t that metal-coated crap. It was actual metal. And it wasn’t insanely thin, either. The fact that his legs had been strong enough to break the chain was impressive enough, but his arms were apparently just as strong. Like damn.

He was completely naked, so I could obviously see that he’s in great shape. But he doesn’t look like those obnoxious bodybuilders or anything. There’s no ridiculous amount of muscle mass there. So I was surprised that he was strong enough to do it.

And immediately, my mind went to bondage, and all the ways I wanted to incapacitate him, to take his physical strength away and leave him completely helpless and at the mercy of my whims. I was bummed that I’d left my rope at home, but I was already thinking of what I wanted to do to him next time I saw him.

I kept fucking him, chuckling as he squirmed further and further off the edge of the bed, his hands gripping the blanket. At one point, I grabbed both of his wrists and held them behind his back while I fucked him, and saw again just how strong he is. It took nearly all of my weight to keep his hands still, and I doubt he was using all of his strength to push against me.

Yeah, I definitely want him tied up and helpless. That needs to happen.

A few days prior to this, he’d bought a set of sounds for me to use on him. I love sounding, but haven’t been able to do it in forever, so I was seriously excited. After fucking him for a bit more, I had him turn over onto his back (keeping the dildo inside him) and grabbed the sounds.

I was nice. I started with the smallest one.

Guiding it into him was insanely hot. But he didn’t squirm nearly as much. Funny how boys tend to stay very, very still when there are things inside their dicks, isn’t it?

He took the smallest one with no problem, so I moved up to the next size. And that was a lot more fun in regards to his reactions. I was loving the way he sounded with something sticking out of both his ass and his cock.

But it was starting to become painful for him, so I pulled it out and turned my focus back to the dildo in his ass, pulling his leg across my lap and fucking him.

I fucked him for a bit more, and then suddenly, he said the dildo was hurting. So I took it out, watched him closely for a moment, and then, when he said he was ready, I slid the dildo back in.

And it was at this point that he uttered the two words no Dominant ever wants to hear.

“Something’s wrong.”

Immediately, the dildo came out and I was on high alert. At first, I was worried that I’d been too rough and tore him. But there was no blood, and based on the way he was describing the pain, it didn’t sound like that was the problem. It sounded exactly like a couple of boys I’ve owned in the past who had problems with hemorrhoids. I asked him if he had them, and he said no, not that he knew of. But man, that’s what it sounded like.

Regardless, I was ready to stop the session, but after a few moments, he took a deep breath, and said the pain had subsided, and he was fine, and wanted to continue. I was wary at first, but decided to trust him, trust his knowledge of his body, and we continued. But nothing else went into his ass, obviously.

The session continued, I teased him, I spanked him, I used my Wartenburg wheel on him, and I completely tortured his nipples. He made the mistake of telling me how ridiculously sensitive they are (silly boy), and I completely used that to my advantage, twisting them, pinching them, caressing them. It was hilarious how he would flinch if I barely grazed my finger against them. And he really is so cute when he squirms. There were a few moments where he’d try to remain stoic, try to “handle” the pain.

I know, I know… But give him a break, it’s the first time he’s played with me.

I had a lot of fun making him make all kinds of sexy sounds.

I started playing with his cock, and asked him how often he masturbates. He said daily, and I quickly decided that needed to change. His dick was far too spoiled, and could definitely do with some neglect. I teased him some more, made him play with himself while I watched, and told him I didn’t want him coming that night, and not at all until I see him again.

The session didn’t really have a definitive end. I actually have no idea how, but we ended up getting lost in conversation again, him lying naked on his back on the bed, while I lied next to him, fully clothed, my head propped up on my elbow, talking and laughing, and arguing the statistical probability of getting shot in the groin (dude, don’t ask). I have no idea how long we were talking, but I know it had to be longer than 45 minutes. When I finally looked over at the clock, it shocked us both to see that it was after 2 am.

I gathered my things, let him get dressed, and he walked me to my car. We hugged, and I drove home.

We texted again today, and I was sure to ask how his ass was, if it still hurt, and he assured me that, other than his nipples being so sore, wearing a shirt was painful, he was fine. I still think he should get it checked out, and I will continue to touch base with him over the next few days and make sure he’s still doing okay, but he’s not exhibiting any of the “red flag” symptoms, so that’s good. He may get annoyed with how much I want to talk about what’s going on in his ass for the next week or so, but he’ll just have to deal with it.

But I’m looking forward to seeing him again. He could definitely turn out to be a fun toy. And I definitely think he’d be adorable wrapped in rope, leather, and chains. That needs to become a reality.

What was your first kinky sexual experience? If you haven’t had one yet, talk about what you hope to have happen.

I guess my first truly kinky experience was near the end of my freshman year. I was 15, and was the first-chair flutist in the varsity band. Yes, I was a nerd. I still am. This should not be news to any of you.

We practiced during class, obviously, and then every day after school, from 3 to 6. From the time school let out til the start of practice, we all hung out together and socialized.

Stay with me, here. I have a point, I promise.

The point is that the band was very close. We hung out together. We ate lunch together. If we had another class together, we’d sit together. We were always together.

The boy I lost my virginity to was a trumpet player in the band. And notorious for being a womanizer and a bit of a man-whore.

He was attractive, and he damn well knew it. He was an asshole, but the kind of asshole you just chuckle and roll your eyes at, but love having around. When I lost my virginity, it ended up being completely meaningless, and I was an idiot and thought I was in love.

But there was someone else, outgoing and charismatic in a completely different way. He was a senior, as well (as was my first boyfriend…. notice a pattern, here? My attraction to older guys started early). He was tall, standing at 6’4″, with blond hair, startling blue eyes, and a really sweet smile. He was attractive, like the trumpet-player, but in a different way. A more innocent, guileless way, I think. The trumpet player looked older than his 18 years, while he looked quite a bit younger, despite being so damn tall.

He was the nice guy. The guy you cuddled with on those cold mornings before first period, the one you talked to and confided in, the one you felt safe with and knew you could trust.

So he was friend-zoned. Hard.

But he and the trumpet-player were great friends, and it was through them that I met my first boyfriend, as well as the owner of the first heart I ever broke (which is something I actually still regret today. I was a shallow little shit).

Even through my super-intense four-month relationship (gotta love that first love, right?) I was still close to the nice guy. We flirted all year, and I truly dreaded him graduating and me having to come back the next year without him there. I loved him just as I loved my boyfriend.

But then, I had a pregnancy scare, and my boyfriend dumped me (gasp!) and suddenly I was single.

And I’d mentioned before that I had self-image issues as a teenager. The end of my freshman year was a bit of an eye-opener for me. It wasn’t enough to overcome my teenage angst and insecurity, but it definitely opened my eyes.

I was devastated, of course, when I was dumped. Not only did the break-up itself hurt, but the reason for it was another slap in the face. He thought I was pregnant, which would fuck up his college plans, so he broke it off before I could even take the test.

Ahh, boys.

Anyway, the next day in school, I cried through pretty much every class.

But then I started to notice something. All of my guy friends (at this point, I had way more guy friends than girl friends) were suddenly super fucking attentive and uncharacteristically compassionate, and at any given point throughout the day, I was wrapped in the arms of one of them while they comforted me.

Like, whoa.

But I was upset, hormonal, and just an idiot in general because of my age. I didn’t think anything of it.

Until the next week. When I still had all of these guys hanging on me, offering comfort and companionship. And then it started getting awkward. I still wasn’t even remotely over my first boyfriend. And boys were just popping out of the fucking woodwork, man.

I really, really broke the heart of someone I cared about. It was the last time I talked to him, and I still feel bad about it, 14 years later. By the end of the second week, so many guys had asked me out, I was just disgusted with the gender in general. I wanted nothing to do with any of them. I was still emotional, still reeling from the break-up, and would still randomly break down crying.

So one of my friends (incidentally, one of my boyfriend’s and the nice guy’s friends, as well), who’d helped me write my very first song, who was the most talented fucking piano player I’ve ever met, even up to this point, who was sweet and kind and caring, approached me one day and asked if I wanted to watch a movie with him after school.

And I blew up on him. Everything I’d been feeling, everything I’d been trying to control, just exploded. I took a sick, perverse satisfaction in the way his face changed as I yelled at him, publicly humiliating him, saying every hurtful thing I could think of to him. A dark thrill ran through me when I saw the color rise in his neck and face, and I saw his eyes start to water.

I stormed away, and he never spoke to me again.

But through all of this, the nice guy kept a distance. He wasn’t one of the dozens that asked me out, or offered to hold me, or anything like that. At first, I thought it was because of his friendship and loyalty to my ex.

I didn’t think much of it, and ended up dating someone else a week later, and life went on.

Then, a month before the end of school, I broke up with my next boyfriend and found myself single again. And I found myself sitting on this little half-wall outside the band room, leaning against one of the columns, reading, alone, when Nice Guy walked up. He asked if our teacher was inside, and I told him no, but that was all the interaction I was expecting. We were still friendly, but hadn’t really spoken since the break-up.

So it surprised me when he stood next to me, leaning against the column, and asked what I was reading. He hadn’t been that close to me in a long time.

We started talking, and at one point, he put his hand on my shoulder in what was supposed to be a casual, friendly move. But his fingers lingered just a bit too long, and that was all I needed.

There was this staircase outside the band room that led to a storage area above the room. An awning stuck out in front of it so you couldn’t see the landing at the top of the staircase until you were almost standing directly underneath it.

We went up there and started making out. And I’m not exactly sure how it happened (this was 14 years ago, y’all) but somehow all 6’4″ of him was lying on his back on the landing, and I was kneeling beside him, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand, while pulling his shorts down with the other. I kissed him, then reached down and gripped his cock hard enough to make him gasp and whimper into my mouth.

And I was instantly wet. That was the first time I’d really experienced what pain does to sweet little boys, and I was hooked. I kept hurting him until he started struggling, trying to pull his arms down, but I immediately let go of his dick and put all of my weight on his wrists, telling him to stay.

He was leaking precum, so I put some on my finger and fed it to him. He was reluctant as hell, but didn’t protest. For a moment, I kept my finger in his mouth, pushing it further and further in, sliding it across his tongue, getting it wet. I remember my heart pounding. I knew what I wanted to do, what I was going to do, but I didn’t know how he’d react, or how I’d handle his reaction. I didn’t know what BDSM was, or what the hell I was doing. I just knew what I wanted, and I knew him well enough to know I’d be able to get from him.

Once my finger was wet, I reached back between his legs, further down than he was expecting. That’s about the point that he started struggling again, telling me to wait, wait. But I kissed him, effectively shutting him up as I slid the tip of my finger inside him.

The feeling of my finger in him made him start struggling in earnest, and he relatively easily got an arm free and grabbed my wrist, telling me to wait. But I just smiled down at him, kissed him again, and said, “No.”

He was still holding my wrist as I slid my finger all the way into him. It was my first time penetrating a boy, and I was immediately addicted.

Once it was all the way in, I knew he wouldn’t struggle anymore, and let his other hand go. I started jerking him off, slowly fingering him as I did so. He came pretty quickly.

I let him up, let him clean himself up. We hugged and kissed again before walking back down the stairs. We didn’t really talk about it, didn’t bring it up after that, and never got the chance to do it again before he graduated. Although, about five years later, I ran into him again by chance. He was the branch manager of a bank, and we immediately exchanged numbers and set up a date.

In the end, he and I weren’t compatible, but it’s still something I remember fondly.

We’ve talked about kazander’s focus being on his dick before, and what sort of consequences that brings about, and how it affects him and his mindset.

And we addressed the fact that the majority of sexual attention I give him revolves around the dick. And Hapa made a good point in saying,

“Repeated sex and penis centric attention fuels the alpha in me whereas chastity and non-penis centric sexual attention fuels my sub side. In sexual terms, relating to a man as though his only sexual organ is his ass instead of a penis knocks him squarely into subspace.”

So it got me curious. What would happen if I completely ignored the dick, and make his ass the only source of sexual pleasure? What kind of effect would that have on him?

For the record, since putting the contract in place, things have improved exponentially, and he’s been obeying the rules I’ve set out for him. And he’s unbelievably eager to suck the strap-on every day. I know the contract says he’s supposed to do it when he gets home from work (which implies weekdays, and not weekends), but I figured why not do it every day? He certainly wasn’t complaining.

Which is awesome. It’s been knocking him right into that slutty space, right where I want him. And I’ve been fucking him and fingering his ass, as well, to really make sure he knows his place. It’s been great.

But I’m a greedy bitch (we all know this). I want more.

So for the next week, I’m not touching the dick at all. 100% of the sexual attention he receives will be focused on his ass (and his mouth, and the rest of his body). I know I mentioned the maintenance edges, but that’s going to be put on hold for now, until the experiment is over.

I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of effect it has on him. I’m already very happy with the improvements so far, and I’m excited to see how it goes, and if it takes him further into that space.

I’m still on the fence about the nerd. We haven’t played since the session where he told me forced bi is a limit. Part of that is because he had a family thing that took up most of his time this week, and part of that is because I still don’t know what I’m going to do with him.

I mean, I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, here. It could just be nerves, after all. The boy is brand-spanking-new (see what I did there?) and it’s a lot to take in for a newbie.

And he really is so adorable. His little mewling cries, his gasping, whimpering moans, the way he grinds against the dildo when I fuck him…. Freaking adorable. I don’t want to have to let him go.

So I haven’t really made any decisions about that. But on Saturday night, zane came over, and I got to play with him for the first time.

And you know what? I think I’ll be okay even if I have to let go of the nerd.

I knew zane was into bondage, forced femme, humiliation, and forced bi. He didn’t have much experience with anal, other than the random self-fingering on occasion, so I knew I’d have to start small.

He came over, we went to the bedroom, and I told him to strip. And once I saw him without his clothes on, I immediately knew that humiliation wouldn’t be the least bit difficult with him.

As I said before, he’s a good-looking guy. Well-groomed, well-dressed, well-spoken. A little on the chubby side, but still attractive.

But dude, his dick!

It was tiny. Laughably tiny. The smallest I’ve ever seen in person. Like, whoa.

Small-penis-humiliation it is, then.

I had him stand in the center of the room, naked, his hands behind his back, while I walked around him, inspecting my new toy. When I trailed my fingertips across his butt, he let out this soft, shuddering gasp that made me instantly wet. So I tied him spread-eagle to the bed and just spent a few minutes lightly trailing my fingers across his body, talking to him and watching him tremble.

Then, I took a short length of rope and tied it tightly around his dick and balls. By that time, I was just aching to put something inside him, so I got the smallest vibrator I own and lubed it up. I fingered him for a bit, first, and I loved his reaction.

He didn’t moan (actually, he hardly made any noise at all, through the entire session) but he gasped and started writhing a bit as I slowly fingered him. I gave him a moment to adjust to being penetrated for maybe the fourth time in his life, and certainly the first time by someone else, and then pressed the tip of the dildo against his hole.

God, he was so nervous! It was so cute. As I started sliding the vibe inside him, he gasped again and arched his back, pulling on the cuffs that held him down. It was freaking adorable.

So I fucked him for a bit, then left the vibe inside him and moved on to the whartenburg wheel, vampire gloves, and nipple clamps. A little pain is good for the soul, after all.

After a few minutes of that, I reached back down to the vibe and turned it on low. I guess he didn’t realize that it vibrated. He was completely startled by it, and it elicited one of the very few moans I got from him throughout the night. Again, I spent a few minutes giving him a slow, thorough fucking.

But then, I figured his ass would probably need a break. He was still practically a virgin, after all. So I took the vibe out, untied him, and tossed him a pair of panties to put on. I spent some time verbally humiliating him, calling him a girl’s name, reaching into his panties to rub his “clit,” or reaching further down to finger his pussy, and grabbing his tits. I made him kneel down and kiss my feet, taking the opportunity to reach over and play with his ass some more.

Then, I buckled a collar around his neck and attached a chain with two wrist cuffs and two ankle cuffs attached to it. It’s great for hogtying, but I used it in the front, cuffing his hands and ankles and effectively forcing him into a fetal position. I did some spanking, some mild CBT, and then put the vibe back inside him and turned it on as high as it would go, alternating between fucking him with it and spanking him.

I was surprised, though. I was expecting his ass to be sore by that point, but it wasn’t. So I left it in and grabbed my vibrating wand, pressing it against his dick. He immediately started writhing and panting, but I kept asking him questions, making him answer, keeping him distracted and not allowing him to lose himself in the pleasure. I asked him about his previous play experiences, about the cocks that he’s sucked, I asked him if any woman had ever laughed at his pitiful dick, etc. I only meant to edge him, but as it turned out, I gave him a ruined orgasm. Oops.

But I wasn’t done with him yet. After humiliating him for cumming in his panties, I started playing with the super-sensitive head until he was begging me to stop. Then I flipped him over, so he was on his knees, ass in the air, and face down on the bed. He was still cuffed, so he couldn’t move. I pushed his panties down, and started fucking him again. And he was doing much better than I anticipated, so I moved up to my next-size-up dildo and put that in him and fucked him for awhile. He was still doing great, so I decided to try my strap-on (which I didn’t think he’d be able to take for at least a few weeks).

But he took that one like a champ, too. So, to reward him for being such a good butt slut, I grabbed the wand again and held it against his dick while I fucked his ass. He came in less than a minute.

And then he collapsed, falling onto his side, panting and breathing hard, goosebumps all over his arms, legs, chest, and butt. I took the dildo out of him, untied him, and spent a few minutes running my fingers through his hair as he recovered. I gave him some water and let him get dressed.

He was adorable. He said he felt like his whole body was buzzing, and he had some trouble remaining upright. I asked if he was okay to drive, and when he didn’t answer right away, I told him to sit back down and hang out for a minute. So we chatted. I asked him what his favorite part was, and he said it was having the vibe in his ass and on his dick at the same time. His least favorite was adjusting to each new toy as I pushed it in. But he was surprised when I showed him my strap-on. He didn’t realize he’d taken something that big.

It took almost twenty minutes before he felt up for driving, so I walked him to his car, gave him a hug, and sent him on his way with strict orders to text me so I’d know he got home okay. And he did, because he’s a good girl.

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What this blog is

This is an 18+ blog about my day-to-day life as a Domina, wife, mother, and all that other crap. A chronicle of me. While this blog focuses primarily on the D/s aspect of my life and my relationships with Kazander, Steel, and Sounder, it is not exclusive to that subject, and I might talk about my kid, or my annoying mother, or my sister's pet cat, or whatever the hell I feel like talking about.

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Sounder’s Blog: soundslikejesseblog

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Steel is no longer my sub, but his blog is still wonderful, and worth reading.

Steel’s Blog: Grind_'n'_Throb

It begins over a friendly disagreement, during which you smile, roll your eyes, and say, “Go fuck yourself.”

“But, Ma’am, that’s physically impossible.”

You smirk and ask how certain I am of this. On a roll, I launch into a smug and tangential rant about the anatomical impossibility of an individual’s being capable of fucking oneself. Your response is to merely shrug, smile, and make a cryptic statement:

“Don’t be so sure…”

Later that evening, you tell me bedtime will be early, an hour early to be exact. The amused look on your face says it would be in my best interests not to argue.

Sometimes I fall into a vicious cycle where I’m mentally and emotionally frustrated and cannot manage to channel that energy into productive avenues. In the old days, this would lead to drinking or drugs, but I don’t do that anymore. Instead, I try to go about my day, generally fail to complete mundane tasks and end up feeling ‘stuck’ – this progresses into a cycle of mild depression, feelings of inertia, guilt over said inertia, and then on and on it goes until something snaps me out of it.

It feels like I’m seated in a car stuck in neutral yet compelled to rev the engine until it screams.

When did I last curl up in her lap? It’s been so long, I cannot recall. Despite numbered boxcars on the calendar and the disinterested faces of clocks, a concrete memory eludes me. Time, location, and date, they’re merely three dimensions after all.